


Prank War

by Ink_Dancer



Series: Camp Counselors AU [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Camp Counselors AU, M/M, present for armedpenguins, so many characters - Freeform, spinoff one shot to a bigger work that will be posted at a later date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_Dancer/pseuds/Ink_Dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Eren, counselors at the same summer camp (along with the rest of the cast of SNK), engage in a massive prank war that escalates quickly.</p>
<p>This is a spin-off oneshot (present for armedpenguins) to a bigger story revolving around jeanmarco that will arrive...at a later date.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: Don't own SNK or any of the characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prank War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArmedPenguins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArmedPenguins/gifts).



“Hey, Marco, what do you think the odds are that Jeager would trust me enough to accept a Coke from me?” Jean thoughtfully tapped his cards against his chin. His eyes were fixed on the lake, which he had a direct view of from the picnic table he and his boyfriend were seated at. The table sat in the center of the Grove, a collection of pine trees on a grassy slope. At the top of the slope sat the dining hall and the auditorium, and to the left of the Grove ran the path from the waterfront. 

Marco gave him a Look. “Jean, don’t do it.”

Jean chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment, then picked up the can and thoroughly shook it up and down. “I’m gonna do it,” he said decisively, his eyes on the shape of Eren climbing up the hill with Armin.

“Jean, no,” Marco said wearily, folding his cards down and rubbing the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“Jean, _yes_ ,” he replied, swinging his long legs over the bench and striding down the hill. “Jeager! I’ve got your winnings from yesterday.” He held up the Coke, keeping it carefully level.

Eren eyed him suspiciously. “You mean you actually intended to give me your canteen?”

Jean had bet him his canteen in a poker game the day before. Unfortunately, it had been on a pair of queens, and of _course_ Jeager had had a pair of aces. Lucky asshole. “Obviously!” Jean chirped. _I’m a fuckin’ liar_. “I’m a man of my word,” he added haughtily, pressing a hand against his chest as if offended.

Eren rolled his eyes and reached for the soda. “Well, thanks, Kirstein. And next time, bet on a decent hand.” He continued up the hill, already working the tab up on the can.

Jean made an ugly face at his back and started back for Marco, who rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at Jean’s energetic thumbs-up.

The fizzing of carbon bubbles and the loud, rage-filled shriek was what made Jean turn around. The entire population of the Grove turned to look as well, campers breaking out into giggles. Eren was standing stock still on the path, spluttering, with the bubbling can held an arms-length from his body and fizz covering him from his forehead to his stomach. _“Kirstein!”_ he shouted, turning on his heel, his face turning red with fury.

“Yes, Eren?” Jean asked innocently, raising his eyebrows.

“You mother —”

“Ah-ah-ah, children,” Jean chided him, waving his finger scoldingly.

“I will get you back for this,” Eren promised venemously, transferring the can to his drier hand and fruitlessly wiping the bubbles off of his shirt.

“I’d like to see you try,” Jean replied in sing-song. He turned and sat back down across from Marco, grinning widely.

Marco stared at him with a mix of exasperation and fondness. “You realize he’s going to make you pay for that, right?”

Jean snorted. “Suuure. We’ll see how _that_ goes.”

——

Jean flopped into his bed with a loud groan. His cabin was empty, he had finally gotten a shower today, and he was _off_. He didn’t have to be _anywhere_ for another whole fifty-four minutes, and so he let himself relax into his mattress and drift off to sleep in the blessed silence of no kids.

That is, until his walkie talkie crackled to life next to him. _“Jean?”_ asked Erwin’s voice.

Groaning, Jean flailed until his hand landed on the device and he dragged it towards his face, squinting with annoyance. “It’s my period off, Erwin,” he replied irritably.

_“I’m aware of that, Kirstein,”_ the assistant director snapped. _“We need you at the waterfront this period.”_

“I’m pretty sure this goes against my legal rights,” Jean argued, but he was standing up and moving towards the door. 

_“Get moving, Jean.”_

“I’m going,” he grumbled. He took off at a half-jog that kids would complain about ( _“why can’t_ we _run?”_ ) and continued down the path towards the waterfront.

When he slid to a stop in the grass, he was puzzled to see it fully staffed with lifeguards. “What the frick?” he demanded under his breath, lifting his walkie-talkie. “Erwin, the waterfront is full of staff, you don’t need me.”

_“Sorry, did I say waterfront? I meant the sports field.”_ Erwin’s voice was clear and business-like, but Jean swore he heard giggling in the background.

“You’re kidding me. How in the name of heaven do you get those two confused?” demanded Jean, starting at a run again up the hill. “They are on the opposite sides of camp.”

_“My bad.”_ Erwin waved at him sarcastically from his station on the porch as Jean sprinted by the dining hall. _“Run, Jean, run!”_ he called with an audible grin.

And of course, when he reached the sports field, there were no gaps to be filled. Reiner’s team was losing badly to Mikasa’s at ultimate frisbee despite his loud shouting. Sasha was blowing loudly through a whistle in leiu of shouting on the archery field. Jean was well and truly panting now, and more than a little frustrated. “Erwin,” he growled into the walkie.

_“Jean,”_ said a new voice. _“I need another counselor at the arts and crafts shed, please.”_

“Christa, I’m not sure if I trust you,” Jean mumbled, already setting off at a jog. 

_“Good decision,”_ she replied cheekily. _“I still need you.”_

“On my way.” His feet crunched in the pine needles, getting well and truly exhausted as he tripped over a root. “I hate you all,” he murmured as he stopped in front of the arts and crafts barn. “Christa! I’m here!” he shouted.

“Thanks, babe,” she chirped from out of sight, and then stepped out onto the porch and blew into her cupped hand. Reacting too late, Jean yelped and ducked, but not before he got coated in purple glitter. “But your services aren’t required here.”

Coughing and shaking his head vigorously to try to get the glitter out of his hair, Jean cried out, “I hate you _all_! What the hell is this?!”

“Payback, bitch,” said Eren’s voice behind him, and Jean whirled, spraying glitter from his body as he spun. Jeager stood with his arms crossed, looking smug. “A lot of people volunteered to help.”

“Number one, don’t swear around children. Number two, I spilled _Coke_ on you, I didn’t make you run all over camp for no reason during your _period off_!” Jean could practically feel steam coming out of his ears. “This is an escalation, good sir.”

“Karma,” Eren replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Jean narrowed his eyes. “Oh, just you wait. I’ll make you pay for this one.”

“Good luck,” Eren said, waving the comment away with rolled eyes. However, to Jean’s satisfaction, he looked mildly frightened.

——

Jean bounced on the balls of his feet on the dock, shivering in his bathing suit. He thanked the lord that Annie, the head lifeguard, wasn’t at the waterfront to see him shiver — she’d yell at him. In the meantime, however, he was freezing to death. He squinted at the grey sky and the slate grey surface of the lake, which rippled in places where it was drizzling. Unfortunately, despite the contrast with the cold air, the water still felt icy. 

He pulled out his walkie-talkie and spoke into it. “Jeager, you’re late. Get down here.”

Eren’s grumbling was audible even through the staticky device. _“I’m_ coming _, Kirstein.”_

_“This line is not for casual conversation between counselors,”_ Erwin snapped.

“Sorry, Erwin,” Jean chanted. He watched in satisfaction as Eren came tearing down the hill, leaping over the low fence that separated the waterfront from the rest of the camp and skidding out onto the dock, where he immediately began to walk. He was still fully-clothed, probably under the assumption that his being late excused him from having to change for the class he was supposed to teach. 

“I’m here,” Eren grouched.

“Where’s your suit?” Jean asked cheerily.

“I didn’t have time to get it _on_ ,” Eren complained. “Also, it’s too damn cold for swimming.” He frowned at the water. “Where are the kids?”

“Erwin ordered that we don’t swim today. Too cold.” Jean shrugged.

“Then what the hell am I doing here?” Eren shrieked, eyes lighting up with anger.

“Entertaining me.” Almost too fast to see, Jean swept his leg out and caught Eren’s ankle, shoving him hard in the chest with his other hand. 

With a yell, Eren tumbled into the freezing water. His cry was extinguished abruptly, replaced by bubbles and froth. A beat later, he popped back up, spluttering and shaking his head like a dog. _“Kirstein!”_ he shouted, but the fury was undermined by the breathless, shivery quality to his voice. 

“Sucks to suck,” Jean called smugly.

“You’d know,” Eren gasped, weakly splashing water in his general direction and immediately floundering as his sodden clothes threatened to pull him under.

Jean watched him closely (despite everything, he didn’t want Eren to drown) as he spluttered and shivered his way through the frigid water over to the ladder. Pulling himself up onto the dock like a drowned rat, Eren glared up at him from under his dripping hair with murder in his eyes. “I hate you,” he snarled, attempting to give Jean a hard shove.

He danced away, half-laughing. “I know.”

“This isn’t over!” Eren yelled as he dripped his way back up the hill.

“I anxiously await your revenge!” Jean shouted back.

——

It took a lot to get Jean up in the morning. It took Connie roaring at the cabin to get up; it took the chilled morning air of the morning camp gathering in the middle of the woods (Chapel, it was called, despite the fact that all that happened there was an inspirational quote of the day); it took the flag ceremony and the pretty view of the lake; it took obnoxiously loud, raucous singing; and most importantly, it took coffee.

Jean’s boys were consistently begging him to get them coffee, and he always lorded it over them, enjoying the warmth and the smell of it and the kick of the caffeine hitting his veins. “When you are a counselor with responsibilities and crap, then you will get coffee,” he said smugly, enjoying their groans of annoyance as he sat down and cradled the cup in his hands.

“There’s nothing quite like coffee, is there, Jean?” came Eren’s voice from over his shoulder. Jean turned in surprise. He grinned and lifted his own plastic cup in a mocking toast.

Jean narrowed his eyes at him and turned back. 

“What was that about?” asked one of his boys, William, with wide eyes.

“Dunno. Eren’s weird,” Jean replied shortly. He took a sip of his coffee — and immediately spat it across the table, causing his boys to yell and back away. Most of the cup went all over him, and he was left with a nasty, burning sensation in his mouth. “What the fu-frick?” he screeched, catching himself at the last second. 

The entire dining hall was alerted to the fact that he was dripping with searing hot coffee that tasted like car exhaust fumes. Erwin stood up, looking murderous. “What is going on, Jean?”

“My coffee,” Jean spluttered weakly, his face turning red. “It’s been poisoned,” he finished dramatically.

Erwin sighed and ground the heel of his hand into his forehead. “Less melodramatically, please.”

Levi, their ever-charming chef, looked up from where he was standing by the coffee pot, looking enraged. One wouldn’t assume that such a tiny person wearing an apron could be so frightening, but Jean shied away slightly. “The entire pot has been spiked with cayenne pepper,” he announced. “Whoever did this was not only unprofessional, they were unskilled. Clearly their target was not the entire staff, and yet they ruined an _entire pot_ of coffee. Not only highly unorganized, they were also extremely foolish.”

“I resent that!” Eren shouted, and then clapped both hands over his mouth.

Jean half-cackled under his breath.

Levi stalked over, brandishing a wooden spoon in one hand. “You insolent brat,” he snapped, whacking Eren upside the head with the spoon. “Tomorrow you make all the coffee. Do it again, and you clean my kitchen with a toothbrush. Am I clear?” Eren nodded, clearly shaken. With a satisfied grunt, Levi turned and stormed back into the kitchen.

The dining hall’s volume slowly turned up again as the kids laughed and moved on, and Jean slowly sat back down. “Was that a prank on me or on yourself, Jeager?” he asked derisively, shaking coffee droplets off of his fingers.

“I think you got the worse end of it,” Eren grumbled, still rubbing the side of his head. 

“Just you wait,” Jean murmured, lifting the entire water pitcher to his mouth and ignoring the protests of his cabin. 

——

Jean very quietly eased the door to Eren’s cabin open. It was four in the morning, and shit was about to go down. He slipped into the darkened cabin and went from bed to bed, waking up each boy and telling them that they _must_ be silent.

He had gathered the whole cabin behind him as he snuck up next to Eren’s bed and carefully laid a speaker right next to the sleeping man’s ear, the volume all the way up. Then he put a portable light apparatus between Eren’s knees and watched with satisfaction as it silently slid through different colors of strobing light.

He whispered, “Get in a circle around the bed.” The kids complied. Then he hit play, and the sweet dulcet sounds of screamo heavy metal filled the cabin. All of the kids began headbanging, and Eren shot bolt upright with a yell to find eight boys and Jean essentially having a rave around his bed.

_“WHAT THE HELL, Kirstein?!”_

_“There are kids present, Jeager!”_ Jean would have whispered, but he couldn’t be heard over the music. Eren smacked the light thingy off of his bed, where it continued flickering at the ceiling. Then he picked up the speaker and stabbed at the mute button until it stopped blasting. The kids stopped dancing rather disappointedly.

“GET OUT OF MY CABIN,” Eren roared.

“It was fun while it lasted, boys,” Jean said hastily, and made his escape, tearing off into the woods and cackling as he listened to Eren shout at his cabin about betrayal.

——

Mornings were difficult for Jean. Something about the quality of the light told his brain that he should still be sleeping, and it made it difficult for him to fully wake up. Sometimes this meant that he half-hallucinated. But he was still fairly certain that his cabin hadn’t been covered in string when he’d gone to bed. 

He sat up groggily and immediately ran into the issue that he _couldn’t_ sit up without being clotheslined by string. “What the hell is this?”

“Eren’s revenge,” said Connie grouchily from the bed next to him. He had a pocketknife out and was determinedly sawing at the strings over his bed. “On _you_.”

“My bad,” Jean said with a wince as the boys began waking up. He looked around properly and saw that every available crevice had string taped or tied to it. It looked like a spider’s nest.

“Jean, what is this?” demanded William.

“This is our call to arms,” Thomas blurted. “It is time, brothers, for us to join the feud. Too long have we watched our counselor, our blood brother, struggle in this war! This is our sign that we must join.” He shook his fist for dramatic effect. “To battle! For revenge!”

_“Revenge!”_ shouted the other boys, like a cult.

“Comrades!” Jean shouted, joining in. “I welcome you to our war! We may have lost this battle, but we will never admit defeat!”

They roared with approval.

“We shall prevail!” More shouting.

“I agree,” Connie called through the noise, “but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all still, quite literally, tied down. Does anybody have any against-regulation scissors?”

——

“It’s a good thing these aren’t bolted to the floor,” Jean grunted as he hefted one end of a bunk bed. 

“You do realize,” Connie said with a strained tone from the other end of the bed as they hoisted it up, “that this will entangle both of the cabins in a nasty, nasty feud.”

“All the more fun.” Jean groaned with relief as they laid the bed down on the leaf-strewn ground outside. “William, is that the last bunk?” he asked as William and Ben stumbled past him with a bunk bed between them.

“Yes, sir,” he replied like a soldier, snapping a salute as they set the bed down.

“Boys Three! Fall in!” Jean ordered, and they fell into a line and snapped salutes, most of them fighting giggles. “Now, run!” They scattered into the woods.

Jean leaned against a tree and watched with glee as Eren led his cabin back, and shushed his boys as they all cackled at their reactions to finding all of their beds _outside_ the cabin. “Kirstein!” Eren screeched into the woods, shaking his fist exaggeratedly. “I will _get you_!”

——

“Come on, guys, hurry up,” Jean whisper-yelled to his cabin as they scrambled for towels. Connie continued snoring away on his bunk. “I have shower duty, and if you guys get up to the bathrooms first I can maybe secretly give you a couple extra minutes.”

The boys cheered quietly, making him chuckle as he exited the cabin and headed up to the bath house, humming off-key as he went.

Ten minutes later, the first of his boys was out of the shower and starting back down the hill. It only took thirty seconds for him to come tearing back up, yelling angrily. _“Jean!_ Jean, all of our stuff is gone!” he shouted. 

“What are you talking about?” Jean demanded, shoving a startled Bert towards the showers to take over for him while he took off at a run. He banged through the cabin door and was startled to discover that everything was gone — the mattresses, the boys’ crates, and (oddly enough) Connie. “What the hell is this?!”

“Eren’s vengeance, of course,” said Thomas miserably from the doorway. He stood shivering in a towel, the rest of the cabin in a ragged circle around him. Jean felt a stab of real, rational, white-hot anger. Eren hadn’t just involved the cabins — this was bordering on fucking cruel. He had gone too far.

“Everybody stay here,” he growled. “Start plotting revenge. I’m gonna go get our stuff. And Connie.”

They murmured assent and dejectedly sat down as best they could.

“We’ll get him back, guys,” Jean said quietly. “I promise.”

 

There was a trail of Jean’s clothing to follow, which he found considerate but annoying as he scooped up his pants from the path and added it to the growing pile of things tossed over his shoulder. Marco and Bert were walking with him, having been enlisted to help him carry stuff back once they found it. “I’m gonna fucking kill him for this one,” Jean grumbled, stooping to pick up yet another one of his shirts.

Marco reached out and took it, gently brushing clumps of dirt from it. “Technically there’s no permanent damage done,” he said rationally. “And it’s only your clothing everywhere, which means he probably left your cabins’ stuff intact.”

“I don’t _care_ ,” Jean snarled, kicking a stump as they walked. “ _He’s_ the one who got our cabins involved. And _he’s_ the one who’s responsible for my boys having to sit and wait in an empty cabin with no _clothes_. How un-fucking-fair is that?”

“So pay him back with a better prank,” Marco told him reasonably. “Come on, Jean. Just…take him to church. You know you can.”

Jean’s reply died in his throat as the trail ended, and he beheld the sight in front of him.

There were crates and bags strewn about the ground (the boys’ stuff was thankfully all still in their bags), and his open and half-empty bag lay at the foot of a tree. Most of the clothing that he wasn’t currently holding was _hanging_ in said tree. The mattresses were in a neat pile, and the topmost one held a miraculously-still-sleeping Connie.

“Good luck topping this one,” Bert murmured.

It got worse. Jean stopped to properly take a look around, and to his _horror_ , he realized where they were. “We’re in girls’ village,” he said with a sigh, and almost immediately Ymir’s voice sounded across the hill: _“BOY IN GIRLS’ VILLAGE!”_

The sound of screaming and running could be heard, and many cabin doors slammed shut as Ymir strode out to greet them.

Jean stared at her furiously. “So how did Eren manage to do this without you raising the alarm?”

“Because I helped,” she replied baldly. “Mikasa and Sasha did, too. Eren and Armin brought the stuff in waves, and we transported it the rest of the way.” She looked up at the tree in admiration. “I’m quite proud of that job, by the way. Did it myself.”

“How could you do this to my boys?” Jean demanded.

Ymir shrugged. “Next time, try bribery. I’ll help anybody with a good idea who’s willing to make a deal.” She frowned. “And anyway, we left all of the boys’ stuff untouched.”

“Except for the fact that it’s way the fuck over _here_ ,” Jean snarled. Then he took a deep breath through his nose. “Whatever. Just collect the stuff, _please_ , so we don’t break any rules.”

“Nah, man. Come get it yourself.” She turned and walked away, whistling to herself. 

Jean aggressively flipped off her back before Marco swatted his hands down. “Come on, let’s just get the stuff, you dope,” his boyfriend grumbled.

It took ten full minutes to collect all of Jean’s stuff from the tree, and once they woke up a stunned Connie, it took two trips to shlep all the stuff back, at which point they were all sweating. Jean spent most of his time cursing Eren and coming up with savage ways to exact revenge.

“Thanks, Marco,” he said quietly, standing at the bottom of the steps into the cabin with his boyfriend. His cabin was struggling to put things back in order and doing it very loudly, but at least they sounded happier in the chaos. “I owe you one.”

“Nah, it’s the least I could do.” Marco leaned in and kissed him, short and sweet. “Let me know if you need help with your revenge.”

“Will do,” Jean replied with a violent grin. “Say thank you to Marco!” he called to his cabin. A chorus of thank-yous made Marco laugh, and Jean watched as he walked back towards his own cabin, where Bert was announcing lights-out.

_How will I make Jeager pay for this one?_

——

Jean ordered lights-out, and then gathered his cabin into a circle on the wooden floor for a meeting.

“We could switch the lists so it looks like his cabin didn’t check out of a meal,” suggested Ben savagely. “They’d have to sweep the whole damn dining hall.”

Jean shook his head, waving the idea away. “Erwin would never let us. And anyway, that’s not fair to his cabin.”

“His _cabin_ spread our stuff all over girls’ village!” Thomas cried out, outraged. “We want _revenge_!”

Jean fruitlessly tried to calm them down as seven boys began chanting _“REVENGE!”_ at the tops of their lungs. It took a full minute to get them to be quiet. “Will you guys _chill_?” he snapped when were finally subdued.

“We want revenge,” Thomas muttered sullenly.

“I know. And we’ll get it. But remember, Eren’s cabin is Boys Four. They’re younger than you. We can’t exact our revenge on them, it’s not their fault in the first place.” Jean blew his breath out in a single sigh, ruffling his hair. “We need to get at their charismatic leader. After all, it was just him and Armin who stole our stuff.”

“So just go for Eren?” asked William, frowning. “How will we do that?”

“I have idea,” said Frank, one of their French boys. He never talked much, and everybody looked at him with surprise. “We will need drugs. And candles, flowers, and — how do you say? — honey.”

 

“Petra,” Jean hissed, tiptoeing into the nurse’s office. _“Petra.”_

“What do you want, Jean?” asked Petra tiredly, sitting up from her previously-hidden position of slumped on the couch.

“I need sleeping pills.”

She sat up further and frowned at him. “Sleeping pills? The hell do you need that for?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can’t sleep.”

“Bull.” She leaned forward, and he could see her eyes beginning to gleam in the darkness. “It’s for revenge on Eren, isn’t it?”

He murmured a reluctant assent.

“Whatever you’re planning, it better be good. Y-Camp hasn’t seen a prank like his last one in quite awhile.” She whistled appreciatively as she bundled around, finally locating the drug and slapping the bottle against his palm. “Now, this is for short-term use only. Long-term use of this as a sleep aid can cause serious side-effects, so I hope you’re not going for long-term drugging.”

“One use only,” Jean promised, pocketing the drugs. 

“Good. Now keep in mind, this will knock him out cold, he probably won’t wake up for practically anything short of an earthquake, and even then. So whatever you do, you’ll have time and you’ll be able to move him, too.” She nodded sagely at him in the dark. “Give him hell.”

“I will.” Jean grinned fiercely.

“Good man.” She settled back into her chair. “I won’t tell anyone you came. Good luck.”

He nodded to her solemnly and slipped back out.

 

“Do we have everything?” Jean asked in a whisper. His cabin was gathered around him in a loose circle, all in black hoodies and face-paint with grim but fierce expressions. 

“Honey,” William said, holding up the tub.

“Candles,” said Chris, holding up handfuls. Josh, next to him, held up his own handfuls. 

“Flowers,” Ben completed, showing Jean a massive plastic bag of rose petals. “And pine needles,” he added, lifting another bag full of the tiny orange buggers.

“I have the salt,” Mike said, holding up the can. 

“Did you drug him?” Thomas demanded from just to his left. 

“Slipped it into his quesadilla and watched him eat it,” Jean replied proudly. “He’s so stupid, didn’t suspect a thing. He should be out for the count for quite awhile no matter what we do, Petra promised.”

“Then let’s do this,” said Frank, and he began to lead the way down the path to Eren’s cabin.

When they arrived, they made quick but silent work. Mike paced a circle in the center of the cabin, making a rough pentagram with the salt. Connie and Jean lifted Eren’s bunk and brought it into the center of the cabin, setting it down as quietly as they could. Josh and Chris put their candles down in place at the star’s points and other various locations. William leaned over Eren with a wicked grin and squeezed the entire bottle of honey all over him. Ben dumped his entire bag of pine needles over the now-honey-covered Eren, and Thomas finished it off by throwing the rose petals over the whole scene.

Then Jean walked around the pentagram and lit the candles, casting a frightening glow over the whole cabin. Once finished, they all formed a circle and settled into cross-legged positions. They drew their hoods up, joined hands, and remained frozen in position for five hours.

 

Eren woke up at eight AM to find eight figures in black hoods humming in unison in a circle around him. It took him perhaps a minute and a half to take in the details — the roses, the still-burning candles that were now mostly lumps of wax, the salt pentagram. And it took him another thirty seconds to realize that he was sticky, and coated in pine needles.

His roar of rage could be heard on the lake.

——

Jean was officially concerned, because it had been almost three days since his cabin had successfully held a seance around Eren’s bed. It had taken the other man three showers to get all of the honey off, there was still salt in the crevices of the floor of his cabin, and there were permanent wax circles on the floor where the candles had melted. 

His cabin had showed immense dedication, sitting in place all night. When Jean had seen that Eren was stirring, he had begun humming (the Halo theme song, of all things) and all of the boys had joined in immediately. Their success had been celebrated by the gift of coffee for all, and an early bedtime for the whole cabin.

Jean had received Petra’s congratulations, and Ymir’s, and even Mikasa’s. Armin had told him how impressed he was that they’d managed to do it without waking up anybody in the cabin (they had also been immensely startled to find the cult-like scene in their cabin first thing in the morning). 

So, why hadn’t there been any retaliation?

He tried not to worry about it as he kissed Marco goodnight and collapsed into his bed, but something about today was niggling at his mind. He was just about to fall asleep when he realized — as he’d been eating his mac n’ cheese at dinner, there had been a distinct _crack_ of something hard. _Jeager_ , he thought, but everything was fuzzy, and he was alseep before he could think of anything else.

 

_In the dead of night, Eren stole into Jean’s cabin. With the assistance of Armin, he carried the sleeping man to the waterfront, where Christa was waiting with tubs of glitter and an inner tube freshly coated with glitter glue._

_“Is everything prepared?” Eren asked, nudging the tube into the water with his toe._

_“Everything is ready,” Christa replied. “Petra sends her compliments.”_

_“Tell her thanks for the drugs.” Eren tied a kayak to the tube, and pushed that into the water as well. “Armin, put him on,” he called over his shoulder, settling into the boat._

_Armin heaved Jean onto the tube and drizzled more glitter glue onto his body. The man didn’t stir in the least. Christa dumped bucket after bucket of glitter onto Jean until there was none left and he was practically shimmering in the moonlight._

_“You’re good to go,” she called to Eren, who began paddling._

_The sound of the paddle sluicing through the water was the only one to be heard until Eren reached the furthest floating raft, a good fifty feet from shore. Then, loud swearing could be heard as Eren struggled out of the kayak and onto the raft, dragged Jean’s dead weight out of the tube and onto the raft, and clambered back into his boat again. He tied the still-glittery tube to the ladder of the raft, and paddled away. “Sleep well, Jean,” he sniggered to himself as he pulled the boat back onto the shore, looking out to see the silhouette of the other counselor’s sleeping form against the water_.

 

Jean first became aware of the fact that he was vaguely cold. And then there was a feeling of general stickiness that didn’t make any logical sense. And then he realized that he was rocking back and forth to a steady rhythm accompanied by the sound of slapping water.

He sat bolt upright and was overwhelmed by the scene in front of him. Bright morning sunlight hit him, glinting off of the water surrounding him. 

_I’m on the fucking raft_. As soon as the realization hit him, laughter bubbled up in his chest. “How did Jeager even get me _out_ here?” he wondered aloud, lifting his arm to shield his eyes. As he did so, a dizzying glint of colors distracted him, and he looked down.

His entire body, pajamas and all, were _coated_ in glitter of all colors, heaps of it, and some of it was sticking alarmingly like glue, which told him that glitter-glue had been used. Tied to the dock was an inner tube with a similar shimmery affliction, clearly meant to be his mode of transportation back to shore.

“Oh, fuck you, Christa,” he murmured. “And fuck you too, Petra.” For clearly, the nurse had double-crossed him and given Eren the exact same drugs she had given _him_. He was still startled that he’d slept heavily enough for Eren to move him out of his cabin and out onto the lake without him waking up until 8:30 AM, at least according to his watch. 

He debated the merits of swimming versus the tube for perhaps ten minutes, teetering with his toes over the edge of the raft. Finally, he gave up, took a running start, and jumped feet-first into the lake in a plume of bubbles. The cold hit him like a wall, driving the breath out of his body as he struggled against his sodden pajamas for the surface. 

Jean breached the water face-first, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face and spraying water droplets everywhere, spluttering and swearing incoherently. He flailed in the water, scrubbing at himself in a desperate attempt to get as much glitter off as possible. When it became apparent that most of it was going to stay, he admitted defeat and grabbed the rope of the tube with his teeth, striking out strongly for shore.

He reached it, panting, only about five minutes later, his progress hampered by the weight of his clothes and the tube. Dumping the tube on the beach, he stormed up the path towards the dining hall, his admiration of the skill of the prank wearing off and swiftly being replaced with fury.

The dining hall doors slammed up with a satisfying _bang_ as he entered. The whole camp looked up with wide eyes to see a sopping wet, glittery, and exceedingly pissed off Jean silhouetted in the doorway. There was a moment of silence, then: _“JEAGER!”_  

The dining hall erupted at his shout, only silencing when Erwin smacked his attention-gathering bell with a spoon. “What is going on?” he demanded, looking from Eren to Jean. 

Eren slowly stood up, clearly stifling laughter. “It’s just our prank war,” he managed to get out before collapsing into a fit of giggles. 

“This isn’t funny, Jeager,” Jean snapped. He had begun to shiver.

Erwin sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Marco, get your boyfriend a blanket or something.”

Jean spluttered, his face reddening, but didn’t make any argument despite the wolf-whistles and renewed murmuring. Turning pink, Marco stood up and moved towards Jean, stealing a blanket from a sleepy-eyed William as he went (the boy willingly gave it up) and stopping at the coffee machine. He threw the blanket around Jean and pressed the cup into his hands, murmuring softly, “I don’t think anyone ever confirmed we were dating for the kids.”

“I don’t care,” Jean lied, his face still warm as he sipped his coffee. He was still dripping onto the floor, but the blanket, accompanied by Marco’s warm embrace and gentle backrub, was making him steadily warmer.

“Eren, this is completely unacceptable,” Erwin continued, heedless of the stir he’d caused. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Jean started it,” Eren insisted petulantly.

“I don’t care who started it,” Erwin said tiredly. “It stops right now, and both of you have OD for the rest of this week.”

A ragged cheer went up amongst the other male counselors, including a tiny one from Marco, causing Jean to whip around and glare at his sheepish boyfriend. “Erwin, that’s not fair,” he protested.

“Do you want me to make it two?” Erwin demanded, scowling. 

Jean backed off. “Fine. It’s done. You win, Jeager.” He let the bitterness hang in the air as Eren grinned smugly.

“You’re going to get him back, aren’t you,” Marco murmured with a sigh.

“Obviously,” Jean grumbled, taking another sip of coffee. “I just need to wait for all this shit to die down.”

——

He waited a week and a half.

By then, he and Eren had both served their time doing OD, and the next week of activities for the campers had started. Jean had taken twice his regular amount of showers and was still finding glitter in unexpected places, like on his ankle or in the crook of his elbow. Whenever he shook his head he could always count on glitter falling out and getting everywhere.

His idea was hatched when he and Eren were assigned BOCS together (Basic Outdoor Living Skills, to which a lifeguard must always be assigned due to the Thursday-night sleepover on Mosquito Island), which was either Erwin’s idea of a joke or for team-building. 

He liked their group of kids; he had two of his own boys, Josh and Chris, and a couple of Marco’s boys, and these two girls who consistently managed to make all of the boys look stupid with their fire-starting abilities.

Thursday night came, and they went out to the island on four canoes. A campfire and some homemade (and slightly burnt) quesadillas later, the kids were settled in two different tents and Eren and Jean each had their own, listening to the crickets chirp and the titular mosquitos buzz.

At midnight, Jean got up and left the tent, taking his sleeping back with him.

He woke all of the kids and had them break down their tents as quietly as possible and load up the canoes. He placed a crate with some food and water, a box of matches, and a note saying _Payback’s a bitch_ outside the tent from which Eren’s snores could be heard. 

Jean and the kids paddled back as silently as possible (Jean in a canoe alone so they didn’t leave Eren any means of transportation back), spending the night with more marshmallows and significantly less mosquitos in the library building.

He woke them all up and brought them to breakfast as if nothing was different, claiming when Erwin asked that it had simply been too buggy and the kids had begged him to come back.

People started getting suspicious around noon when Eren didn’t show for any of his scheduled activities, but as the camp was noticeably more peaceful with him gone, nobody pointed out to Erwin. The assistant director wouldn’t notice without help — he was too busy. 

Finally, at dinner, Erwin stood up for announcements. His last one, in a tone of dawning realization, was: “Where’s Eren?”

All eyes zeroed in on Jean, who slowly, sheepishly, stood up. 

Erwin looked thunderous. “You _left_ him on the island? All day? Alone?”

“I left him food and stuff,” Jean said with a shrug, struggling not to look guilty. It took a lot of effort not to toe the ground like a nervous horse, especially under that angry glare.

“What if there had been a weather emergency?”

“There wasn’t one in the forecast,” Jean countered. 

Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. The camp waited with bated breath for the hammer to fall. “Jean, come here,” he said finally, gesturing with his head to lead Jean behind the fireplace so the camp was no longer listening in. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” he continued softly in a dangerously calm voice. “You are going to take the motor boat out to that island _right now_ and bring him back. You’re going to bring Marco with you to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, and somehow the two of you are going to convince Eren not to retaliate. If this happens again, both you and Eren will be on OD for the rest of the summer. And if I _continue_ to find you deliberately disobeying me regarding important matters, neither of you will be invited back next summer. Do I make myself clear?”

Feeling a little pale, Jean nodded meekly.

“Good.” Erwin suddenly and unexpectedly smiled. “I hope you listen this time, because I would hate not to have you back next year.”

“Thanks, Erwin,” Jean muttered, looking at his feet.

“Now _go_.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, scampering out of the dining hall, gesturing for a surprised Marco to follow him. “What was that about?” his boyfriend asked as they clambered down the hill towards the dock.

“We’re going to go get Eren. You’re coming to make sure I actually do it, and to help me convince Eren to call a truce.” Jean stumbled into the boat and revved the engine, making sure there were enough life jackets and that Marco was on board before shoving off.

“Why?” Marco asked, screwing up his face adorably at the evening sun.

“Because if we don’t, Erwin will give us OD for the rest of the summer and we’re probably also fired.” Jean maneuvered the boat around a submerged rock.

Marco didn’t respond with more than an exasperated sigh, and within five minutes they were at the island. 

“Jeager!” Jean shouted. “EREN!”

A figure popped up from behind a tree and came up to the boat. Jean stared. Eren was covered in almost as many mosquito bites as Jean had had glitter pieces that morning over a week ago, and his face was almost purple with rage. “You’re a fucking asshole,” Eren snarled, taking full advantage of the lack of children.

Jean just sighed. “Get on the damn boat, Jeager.”

Eren hesitated a second, then grudgingly stepped on board. Jean turned the boat and began heading for camp. Jean gave Marco a significant look, the response to which was rolling eyes. “Eren, we need to talk to you,” Marco said quietly.

Eren pressed his lips together and didn’t reply.

“Number one, I’m sorry,” Jean chimed in. 

Jeager snorted and still didn’t respond.

Jean sucked his cheek in. “Erwin says he’ll fire us if we continue the prank war.” Not strictly true, but not a lie either. 

Eren sighed, relenting. “I figured.” He crossed his arms, squinting at the sun. “I didn’t want to continue anyway. I’m burned out, and I’m sick of this.”

“Me too,” Jean admitted. “So, truce?”

“Truce,” Eren agreed. “But if anybody asked, you begged me not to retaliate.”

Jean struggled for a minute with his ego before Marco smacked him, and wrenched a sigh. “Fine. Deal.” And then, in his head: _I still totally fucking won_. 

 


End file.
